


Waves

by MadameMeduse



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29082255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameMeduse/pseuds/MadameMeduse
Summary: Geralt rides to the coast to meet his bard once again. He wants to apologize but finds out he can't.Jaskier has moved on.So there is nothing left for a lonely Witcher. Nothing but the waves.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 111





	Waves

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this as a TwitFic on Twitter and maybe broke some hearts. :) I hope you enjoy it anyway. Kudos and comments will save me from the madness!

The old fisherman wiped his brow. It was the hottest day of summer. Sweat trickled down his wrinkled forehead.

„The bard? Yes, he lives here.“

„Where?“

„Cottage at the cliffs. Can't miss it.”

„Thank you.“ Geralt handed him some coin, but the man refused to take it. 

Roach snorted excitedly as he mounted her. She knew how he felt. She always did.

The landscape of the coast was an artwork of nature, combining the green of the hills with the blue of sea and sky. The cottage fitted in perfectly. Wild roses in vivid hues leaned into chalked walls.

It was a cosy home. Geralt watched it from the hill slope, hidden behind wind-bent pines.

The young woman in the garden plucked apricots and collected them in her apron. She turned and laughed as the man left the cottage and hugged her, pulled her in a warm embrace. 

The fruit fell to the ground and the woman scolded the man softly. The breeze stole the words from her lips.

Geralt's throat constricted. He needed to admit how well the couple matched. Blonde and curvy, dark and lean. He couldn't see the man's blue eyes, but he knew he was happy.

The wound that had been festering behind Geralt's ribs for a whole year cracked open, but there was no pain. He had come to apologize, but he realized that it was too late. For him.

But not for Jaskier. The bard had found his way to move on. Without him. He deserved it. 

Geralt knew he should be happy for his friend, but inside of him, the small hope he had felt vanished and left nothing but numbness. It was impossible to invade Jaskier's life once again. He couldn't apologize any more.

The bard had chosen a new way. He didn't deserve to be -confronted with the shadows of the past again. Geralt was a man of destruction, not of redemption. It would always be this way. He had tried to change it, but it was a truth that had been carved into his bones during the trials.

Whenever he had tried to make something right, it had turned out to be a disaster. He knew he couldn't escape the inevitability of misery that followed him like a foul smell.

Geralt watched the endless ocean as he left. The rise and fall of the water reminded him of their friendship. Summers filled with comradeship and song. Winters at Kaer Morhen, cold and lonely, even in his family's company. A constant change.

Something that had felt like it was destined to go on forever. It had taken him too long to accept that his time with Jaskier was precious. In fact, it had been the best years of his life. 

The bard had given him his love from the day they met. He had never been ashamed about his open display of affection. Geralt had shied away from what Jaskier had offered him. He hadn't been capable of real love. Or so he had thought. 

Yennefer had proven him wrong. Because being with her and losing her to his egoism had made him realize how real love should feel. It had always been Jaskier, the man who had loved him without expecting anything in return. 

Geralt had only understood it in the same second he had destroyed it in the turmoil of fear and weakness at king Niedamir's mountains. And now, everything had been said and done.

Yennefer was safe and powerful as ever, finally free from the djinn's wish. 

Ciri was at Kaer Morhen with Vesemir and Eskel – maybe even Lambert, who had grown fond of the orphaned girl.

There had been only one last thing Geralt had wanted to do, but now, as he had found it to be impossible, he wasn't even sad. He felt nothing at all. 

He rode back into the village and to the pier where the old fisherman still sat and repaired his nets. The man's eyes widened in disbelief as Geralt left everything he owned with him and made him swear to the gods that he would take good care of Roach. 

The beach at dusk was a beautiful place. Geralt sat down in the sand and stared at the horizon. Seagulls hovered over his head, looking for prey that would come with the retreating water. As the sun disappeared and the blue hour devoured the earth, Geralt walked into the sea. 

He knew the darkness that was to come would be soothing, like an old friend whom he finally was allowed to embrace. It would only take some minutes. Water splashed behind him. The unexpected sound brought him back into reality.

“What do you think you're doing, Geralt of Rivia?” 

Jaskier's voice cut like a knife and the Witcher flinched. He turned, the water slowing him down. The bard smelled of fury and he looked like wrath itself, wet clothes clinging to his slender frame. As he finally reached Geralt, he rose his hand and slapped him hard in the face. 

“You're coming to my village and decide to drown yourself in front of my home, you pathetic little shit? Get out of the water, collect poor Roach at ol' Pete and piss off. I have had enough of you ruining my life.”

Geralt blinked. The numbness he had been feeling trailed off. 

A strange sensation of joy nestled in his chest. Jaskier was here. He could listen to his voice again. Even if the bard hated him. Even if he had just sent him away. At least they were even now.

“Jaskier, I am so sorry.” His voice sounded foreign in his own ears. 

“I wanted to visit you earlier today. But I saw you and -. You looked happy with her.”

The next slap hit him even harder. Jaskier was fuming now, but Geralt could tell that the smell of salt and water he noticed was very different from the scent of the sea that surrounded them. 

The bard was crying.

“How dare you assuming it would take me only a year to get over you?” Jaskier's face was contorted with grief. “A year, Geralt? Do you really think so little of my love for you?”

The Witcher wiped his bloodied nose and was lost for words. A spark lit in his chest, warming him from the inside. Jaskier still loved him?

“The woman?”, he rasped. He needed to know.

“My late brother's widow. A childhood friend!”, Jaskier yelled, his hands clenched into fists. “She took me in after – you left me.” 

The bard's last words were only a whisper.

“I left myself”, Geralt said and the bard, ready for another pained tirade, shut his mouth. Cool waves rocked their bodies. “But I didn't realize. Please forgive me.”

Jaskier said nothing. He just stood there, a crying, shivering mess. 

The Witcher wanted to step forward, but he didn't know if he would be welcomed. So he waited patiently. He had waited for so long. It was Jaskier who should decide what would happen.

“I am not sure I can.” The bard sighed and his shoulders slumped. He shook his head slowly. “But I can tell you that this was the worst attempt to make things right.”

“I know, Jaskier. I'm -.”

The bard cut him short with a gesture. He looked incredibly tired.

“Sorry. Yes, I know. But that's not enough, Geralt. You can't rebuild everything you have destroyed. Some things will never be the same again.”

The bard staggered as another wave crashed into them.

“I will accept everything you decide, Jaskier.”

There was silence. Then the bard turned away and Geralt's heart nearly stopped. 

“I decide we should get out of the water now. You need to return to the village and fetch Roach. She's a good girl and doesn't deserve your idiocy. Neither do I.”

“You don't. Never did.”

Jaskier just hummed. As they reached the beach again, they looked at each other for a while. They were trapped under a crescent moon and cold stars. Tears glistened on Jaskier's pale cheeks.

“Geralt, I have always loved you. And I will love you for the rest of my life. But I am not sure if we should spend this life together.” 

Jaskier desperately searched for his answers in Geralt's face. But the Witcher felt that none of the words he held in his heart would come out. He knew that he failed, again. His jaw trembled and his eyes hazed with sadness.

“But maybe- ”, Jaskier whispered. “Maybe we aren't meant to share our lives. Only the summers. The bright days.” A small smile lit the bard's face. It was still desperate. But it held a promise. “Come here next summer and I will let you know.”

Geralt's heart leaped. He knew he would be counting the days.


End file.
